Promise Me
by Shrrgnien
Summary: "I promise." Two words, with little thought of their significance-but two thousand years later, with Zoe dying in her arms, Artemis struggles to keep an oath that suddenly seems too cruel to fulfill.


Promise Me

They all mourned that night. It was bad enough, as Lavinia said through tears, to lose a Hunter at all, but to lose Arethusa…she broke off the thought, stifling a sob.

Artemis sat as still as a statue, staring into the campfire. She had failed. That was the thought that kept pushing, intruding, try as she might to banish it. Arethusa had trusted her implicitly, trusted her with her life, and in the end the only thing Artemis did for her was turn her into a river. The Hunters, bless them all, sensed their goddess' anguish. From time to time they would meet her eyes, and they all said the same thing; _this isn't your fault._

Glancing around the grieving circle, however, she noticed with a jolt that the one she needed most to see had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth. For a moment she felt a thrill of panic. _No,_ she thought. _Not Zoë too. Not now._ Then her gaze fell on two crossed arrows a short distance away, gleaming faintly silver in the moonlight. She stood up, and immediately all eyes were on her, some confused, some anxious, all of them concerned. She brushed their minds lightly, and found that they were all varying degrees of nervous that she would, in a fit of well-justified immortal anger, do something to provoke Aphrodite. And even though she was immortal and the ones most likely to get injured in a godly war were them, they were afraid for _her_. The goddess' heart melted at their loyalty. The closest girl-Alene, who was barely more than eight years old-made an odd movement, as if she had wanted to hold Artemis back but thought better of it. Artemis gave the girl what she hoped was a reassuring smile and said quietly, "I shall be but a moment. Cynthia, you are in charge until I return."

Cynthia looked shocked. "Me? But-" she turned instinctively to her right, to the place Zoë would normally have occupied, to find it empty. Then the girl seemed to understand. "Yes, Archeress," she said quietly, and Artemis almost smiled at the title. Cynthia, who came from a tiny, remote fishing village in southern Greece, was the only one to call her by it. Most Hunters simply called her Artemis, and many, Zoë chief among them, referred to her invariably as "my lady". One Roman girl called her Diana by force of habit, but she was getting better. Cynthia alone, however, called her Archeress, and it never failed to touch the goddess.

Reaching the arrows, Artemis knelt to examine them. In the center of the X they formed, there was a single purple flower with a vivid yellow center; a nightshade. Artemis recognized it as an effort to reassure her that Zoë had not been kidnapped or murdered or anything along those lines. Most likely her lieutenant simply wanted some time alone, some time to think.

Well, to Hades with what Zoë wanted. Artemis wasn't about to let her wallow in undeserved self-hatred all night. She tracked her easily, without even looking at the ex-Hesperid's footprints. She was, after all, the Goddess of the Hunt, and as helpless as she had felt that day, she still had that much power.

She eventually found Zoë leaning against a tree, throwing an enchanted dagger repeatedly at a rotting stump. The knife hit the wood with a dull _thump_. After a few moments, it would shimmer, dissolve, and reappear in its sheath, whereupon Zoë threw it again, slowly, rhythmically. The strong, stoic huntress looked close to tears.

"Did the stump do you some great personal injury, Zoë?" asked Artemis in a quiet voice.

Zoë jumped; even so her aim was true, the dagger speeding once more into the heart of the stump. "I did not hear thee, my lady," she said in an emotionless voice. The dagger reappeared at her hip, and she drew it unconsciously, cocking her hand to throw. Artemis gently caught her wrist, slipping the knife from between her lieutenant's fingers and sliding it back into its sheath. The auburn-haired goddess stepped back slightly and stood quietly. Neither girl said a word. Zoë seemed unable; she was staring at the mutilated stump with such intensity Artemis half-expected it to burst into flames. She made no attempt to press her companion, content to stand quietly beside her and wait for her to speak.

Zoë eventually broke the silence. "Arethusa was my friend," she said flatly, still addressing the stump.

Artemis felt a small flare of anger. "And what do you propose I should have done? Allowed that-allowed Alpheus to catch her?"

Zoë looked around in alarm. "I do not blame thee, my lady!" she said, surprised that the goddess would draw such a conclusion. "You did everything you could for her. You saved her." She returned her focus to the stump. "I only wish it had not been necessary." She drew her dagger again and threw it with such force the rotten wood split in two. "Why can they not simply let us be?" she said hopelessly, tears welling in her dark brown eyes. She put her head in her hands as if to run her fingers through her hair, but she froze when her fingertips brushed the silver lieutenant's band braided into her hair. She withdrew her hand slowly, and Artemis saw that it was shaking. "I do not deserve this, my lady," she whispered in a tortured voice. "I have made too many mistakes, cost too many lives…" The tears that had welling in her eyes spilled over, coursing silently down her face. "Daphne, now Arethusa…these things do not have to happen! If I had been more careful-"

"Zoë." Artemis' voice was kind, but firm. "Do not blame yourself for the gods' wrongdoing. This is _not_, nor has it ever been, your fault."

Zoë shook her head. "It is," she insisted, still in a quiet voice. "I should never have allowed Daphne out of my sight that day…"

She stared at the stump, but Artemis knew what she was really seeing.

_It was just after noon, the hottest part of another Greek summer. The proximity of the sun chariot didn't help matters. Apollo's fiery horses tossed their heads and pawed the earth in a false show of ferocity. Really, the horses were more mischievous than dangerous-much like their master-but the Hunters didn't know that. They gave the horses a wide berth._

"_Hunters, load up!" Zoë ordered reluctantly, casting a glance at Artemis that said quite clearly, _please, please, _please_ tell me this is just a joke, and that we do not actually have to travel with this person. _Artemis almost laughed, but, after all, Zoë had never met Apollo before._

"_Here, sweetheart," said Apollo to Daphne, across the clearing. "Let me get that." Hesitantly, Daphne surrendered her heavy pack to the god._

It's only for a few days, _Artemis said in Zoë's mind. _What Aphrodite did to Atalanta was dishonest and cruel. I must be on Olympus to deal with it. If she gets upset—which is likely—I would not have my Hunters be tempting targets. Chiron and his heroes will protect you._ She could feel Zoë's contempt at the word "heroes", but there was no time to speak to her about it. Turning to the magically enlarged chariot, she performed a quick head count and came up short. Frowning, she scanned the faces of the Hunters, realizing who was missing_

"_Where's Daphne?" she asked Zoë. The girl froze, and then turned, excruciatingly slowly, to face the goddess. Artemis felt her immortal heart skip a beat at the terror in her lieutenant's eyes. Zoë swallowed, and then asked one all-important question._

"_Where is Apollo?"_

Artemis shook herself mentally, and placed a cool hand on Zoë's shoulder. "Do not torture yourself over Daphne's fate," she said gently. "If even I could not keep an eye on my brother, how could you? You expect too much of yourself. Even Lord Zeus is not omnipotent."

There was a distant peal of thunder. Raising her voice, Artemis called, "You're not helping!"

Zoë sighed. "You are right, of course. There was nothing I could have done for Daphne. But today … Arethusa…that was my fault! Why-_why_ did I let her go off alone? I was a fool. She was always so friendly, so bright, and she asked me, as politely as you can imagine, if she could go on a short walk. She said she wanted to be on her own, to hear to forest…we were not doing anything that required her help, so…" she trailed off helplessly. "If anyone deserved a long life with Elysium to follow, Arethusa did. And now, because of me, because of my folly, she will have nothing."

"It was I who changed her, Zoë," Artemis reminded her.

"And 'twas I who made it necessary." Zoë did not look as if she would be accepting comfort, even if she desperately wanted it. "I…I do not deserve this kind of trust," she said, and made as if to remove the silver band around her head.

Artemis once again caught her wrist, but much less gently now. "Do you think so little of my judgment, Zoë _Nightshade_?" she demanded, allowing a hard edge of anger to enter her voice. "I trust you above anyone. I have given you authority to act in my stead if I am unavailable. Do you think I would give this kind of honor to anyone?"

"I do not deserve it," repeated Zoë in a tiny, painful voice.

Artemis felt the anger drain out of her to see her dearest companion in such a state. "I disagree," she said quietly, holding the girl's hand between her own. "You may believe otherwise, but know this: my Hunters are my dearest and my best. I would not give authority over them to someone I could not trust. _You_ are my lieutenant. There is a reason for that."

"I do not understand why you trust me like this," Zoë said miserably, "When the only reason I met you in the first place was because I betrayed my family."

Artemis put her hands firmly on Zoë's shoulders, turning her so that she was looking her straight in the eyes.

"Zoë," she said, "We _are_ your family."

_We are your family._

Artemis let the words hang in the air, her silvery eyes locked on Zoë's dark brown ones. Finally, the tense posture of Zoë's shoulders relaxed, and she blinked once, slowly. She raised her head slightly, and there was a sort of wonder in her eyes as she looked at her goddess. "Thank you, my lady," she whispered, and for once there was no pain in her voice.

Artemis smiled and answered, "I was only telling you what you already knew, dear one." She brushed her hands together, turning suddenly businesslike. "Now!" she said, "We had best return to the Hunters, lest we find they have had all kinds of wonderful adventures without us!"

Zoë smiled, a real smile of actual-dare she say it—_happiness. _She opened her mouth, and Artemis raised her eyebrows incredulously as she watched, sure her lieutenant was going to make a joke.

"As you wish, my lady," she said quietly.

Ah, well.

As the two huntresses walked all but soundlessly through the trees, Artemis noticed a change in Zoë's bearing. It was not dramatic, but still, it was there. Her stride was ever so slightly more confident, she was ever so subtly calmer. The goddess tactfully refrained from mentioning it, but she thought that, just maybe, Zoë was beginning to heal.

When they reached a small clearing, Zoë slowed and stopped, looking up at the stars with an expression of utmost contentment on her face. "The stars are beautiful tonight," she said softly.

"I hadn't noticed," said Artemis. "But you are right."

Zoë had a contemplative look on her face. "I sometimes feel it was worth it," she said slowly, "All of it—just to see the stars."

It took a moment for Artemis to understand what she meant. "There are no stars over the Garden of the Hesperides?" she asked in surprise.

"None," replied Zoë, "Unless a mortal has entered. My…the others always said they disrupted the magic, polluted the garden with the mortal world. But when the defenses were intact…night never falls there, you see. It is always twilight. It was beautiful, of, course—breathtakingly so. And yet," she swept her arm out, indicating her surroundings, "It cannot compare to this." As she pondered the surrounding forest, a look of unease entered her peaceful face. She walked over to a shining-leafed laurel and stroked its branches absentmindedly. She appeared lost in unhappy thoughts. "Artemis?" she said, the first time she had used the goddess' name in centuries. "What if…" she swallowed. "What if I am next?"

Artemis didn't have to ask what she meant. "Then I would save you," she answered reassuringly. Zoë flinched.

"What do you mean by 'save', my lady?"

Artemis frowned. "Enough of these leading questions," she said. "Why not have everything out in the open? What is troubling you?" As she spoke, she placed her hand on her lieutenant's shoulder and pulled her away from the laurel, walking once more back to the Hunters.

Zoë seemed lost for words. Finally, she managed to say, "My lady…will you promise me something?"

Artemis hesitated. "That, my Huntress, depends on what you wish me to promise."

Zoë understood immediately. "I am not asking thee for a binding oath," she said swiftly. "I do not need thee to swear on the Styx. Only promise me…" Her voice broke slightly, but she recovered herself. "Promise me that when I die, or if I am the next Huntress to be chased down…please, my lady, I beg you, do not turn me into a tree, or a spring, or anything else along those lines. I could not bear it…I would much sooner live my life, and die when my time comes, and hope that I might achieve Elysium, than have my spirit trapped between life and death forever."

Artemis walked in silence for several minutes, reluctant to make even a non-magical oath. The look in Zoë's eyes, however, was impossible to ignore.

"Very well," she said finally. "You have my word."

Zoë visibly relaxed. "Thank you, my lady."

Artemis smiled, suddenly playful. "It is not a binding magical oath, mind you. Were I you I would make sure to serve me very well, else I may be tempted to go back on my word."

Zoë looked shocked for a moment, until she realized Artemis was joking. She spluttered indignantly, and Artemis laughed.

"I am sure you would make a lovely tree," she offered. "Perhaps a cypress…"

Zoë made an odd face, and Artemis had the distinct impression she was biting her own tongue, presumably to keep from blurting out whatever four-letter words were clearly floating around inside her head.

"Lady Artemis! Zoë!" Alene's voice was filled with relief. "We were getting worried," she explained, looking embarrassed.

Artemis patted the girl lightly on the shoulder. "Forgive us," she said. "We lost track of the time." Looking around the circle, she said, "It is late, and we have all had a long day. You should get a few hours' sleep, at the very least. The tents are already set up. Bank the fire; get some rest. All of you," she added, looking at Zoë. "No matter how beautiful the stars are."

The Hunters, having worked with their usual efficiency, were already settling down in their various tents. The usual good-natured squabbling arose from the third tent from the right, followed by the usual well-aimed shoe thrown from the tent on the facing side of the crescent and the usual muffled "ouch!" from the infamous Tent Number Three. There were nine tents total: one for Artemis, one for Zoë, and seven more that were supposed to hold two Hunters each. That was the official number: two Hunters per tent. Technically, there should have been ten tents. But Alene was just so fond of Cynthia and Diana (the irony of those names, coupled with the fact that they _shared a tent,_ never failed to impress Artemis) that it seemed cruel to force her into a different tent. She was small, after all, and the other two were more than willing to have her in tent 3. Arethusa…well, she wouldn't need hers anymore, and her bunkmate, Helena, had moved in with Penelope and Daphne (Not the one that was turned into a laurel, a different Daphne), so there were nine tents.

"My lady?" The goddess turned to see Zoë, passed at the mouth of her tent. The girl smiled slightly, and said, "Thank you… again. It means more than you know. Thy word," she clarified, seeing Artemis' confused expression. "It means more to me than I can say." With no change of expression, she added, "Good night, my lady. I am sure I shall sleep like a log. Perhaps a cypress." With that she withdrew, the tent flap falling into place.

Cynthia's head popped out of her tent. Her eyes were wide. _Did she just make a_ joke_? _she mouthed, gesturing at Zoë's tent. Artemis smiled and shrugged before entering her own tent.

That night, Artemis thought about the unusual promise she had made. It wasn't every day someone begged you _not_ to save their life.

_Zoë,_ she thought, _what am I going to do with you?_

_Zoë, _thought Artemis desperately, _what am I going to do without you?_ Because she knew, deep down, that the loyal Hunter was dying.

"Zoë, she moaned, "You brave, loyal fool, Zoë, I wasn't actually hurt! How could you not have-"

"I knew."

Artemis stared at her lieutenant. Surely the girl's mind was going, surely she was just dazed by pain, she couldn't possibly mean what she thought she did…

"I knew-" Zoë gasped in pain. "I knew you were faking."

"Then _why_, Zoë? Why would you throw your life away like this?"

Zoë's eyes brimmed with tears. "Because-" she winced. "Because how could I take that chance? If I had been wrong, how could I have lived, knowing I could have saved thee and chose not too? How-" she choked and tried to clutch her side, but she didn't even have that much strength. For the first time, Artemis noticed the blood staining the girl's side. She drew her hunting knife and carefully slit open the side of Zoë's jacket, gasping when she saw the vicious bite. It was more than a cut. The dragon's venom was like acid, dissolving the surrounding skin. How could Zoë have fought through this kind of pain? Ladon, her childhood friend, her little dragon, had all but bitten her in half. But Artemis knew it was more serious than even that. The venom was in her bloodstream now, destroying her from the inside out.

"Zoë…" the goddess didn't know what to say. She was saved the necessity of having to think of something (What do you say at the end of two thousand years of companionship? No, don't think like that, there's hope…) when the young son of Poseidon called her name.

Thalia-she had been surprised to see her cooperating with Zoë-was in shock, grief written on her face. Of course it would be hard for the girl to see her old friend like this. Percy Jackson was pulling her along, forcing her to move to safety. "Artemis!" he called. Normally, if a man had dared address her so informally, she would have turned him into a pile of ashes. Or possibly a jackalope. Now, however, with her faithful partner barely conscious in her arms, she could not even find it in herself to be offended. The boy stopped short when he saw her face, his panicked eyes flitting to Zoë's face. The fear in them subsided somewhat when he saw that she was alive.

The poor child. He didn't understand.

"The wound is poisoned," she said. There was no need to go into details. It would only frighten the heroes, and Zoë didn't need to be reminded what was happening to her.

The boy looked confused. "Atlas poisoned her?"

"No," she said. She had to work hard not to sound impatient. After all, the boy wasn't thinking well. He was still dazed from holding the sky. "Not Atlas." She could not force herself to say any more, so she wordlessly pulled back Zoë's bloody jacket, revealing the horrific bite. He blanched and half turned away, unable to look at the wound.

"The stars," said Zoë weakly. "I cannot see them." Artemis felt like someone had plunged a dagger into her heart, like Atlas had run her through after all. She remembered Zoë's words so long ago, that just seeing stars made all her trials worthwhile. Dimly she heard the boy hopelessly suggesting nectar and ambrosia. It would have been a good idea if they had had any.

Then there was a buzzing noise, and a Sopwith Camel flew over her head.

Artemis stared at it, quite certain she had finally gone mad. Then Annabeth called out, "Dad?" and Artemis realized the others could see it too. Somehow, this mortal had fashioned bullets out of Celestial bronze.

Even her brother couldn't have seen this one coming.

"A brave man," she said, impressed in spite of herself. Then she forced herself to focus. "Come. We must get Zoë away from here." It was all she cared about. She raised her horn to her lips and blew, summoning her chariot. Despite the pain she was in, Zoë's eyes shone at the clear, clean note. Annabeth was staring at her father as he swooped down and vaporized a legion of giants. Perseus Jackson knelt protectively by Zoë's side, keeping up a steady stream of encouragement as he kept his eyes trained anxiously on Annabeth's father. Artemis, however, was watching the sky, and sighed in relief when her beautiful chariot soared out of the heavens, landing smoothly beside them.

"Get in", she said to Thalia, who seemed incapable of keeping up with things. She then conjured a silvery blanket out of midair while Annabeth and Percy helped Thalia into the chariot. Annabeth knelt beside her friend, but Percy leaped down and helped her with Zoë. As they wrapped her up and carried her to the chariot, he was as gentle as if she had been his sister. Artemis was grateful for his kindness on Zoë's behalf, especially since she could not have been particularly friendly to him, and he himself was still clearly in pain. The moment everyone was in the chariot, she gave a signal to the deer, and they leapt into the air and flew off over San Francisco like arrows from a bow.

What? She was the archer goddess. She was allowed to use those kinds of clichés.

"Like Santa Claus' sleigh," muttered the hero. Out of the corner of her eye, Artemis saw Zoë's face twitch in the barest ghost of a smile. She didn't think the demigods noticed.

"Indeed, young half-blood," she answered him. "And where do you think that legend comes from?"

She contacted the mortal pilot's mind, and he gave her directions to a place called Crissy Field, where he said they would be able to land and care for Zoë without being disturbed. He then lost his train of thought (she gathered this was not uncommon) and began waxing eloquent about Sopwith Camels and German lines, at which point she severed the contact. She doubted he would notice.

They landed at the field the mortal had recommended. Annabeth immediately ran over to thank him, Percy on her heels. Thalia, however, stayed with Artemis to help bind Zoë's wounds. She had tears in her eyes.

"Thalia," said Artemis in a low voice. "You know…you are much like a Hunter in many ways. We will…I fear we will soon be in need of new leadership. If you were interested…"

"I am not dead yet," whispered Zoë hoarsely, with a truly sad attempt at sounding offended. Her eyes squeezed shut as Thalia tied a bandage too tight.

"I'm sorry, Zoë, I'm so sorry-Annabeth, Percy!" called Thalia, hastily untying the offending fabric and fastening it again.

Zoë was shivering under the blanket. Artemis knew that it was Ladon's venom, slowly working its way through her body. Keeping her hand under the blanket, she placed it in Artemis'. The goddess choked back a sob at the tiny plea for comfort.

"Can't you heal her with magic?" Percy asked desperately. "I mean…" he seemed to realize that the question had come out ruder than he had intended "I mean…you're a goddess."

"Life is a fragile thing, Percy," she said, as gently as she could. "If the Fates will the string to be cut, there is little I can do." She remembered Zoë's words on Mount Orthrys. _How could I live, knowing I could have saved you, and I chose not to?_ A measure of determination entered the goddess. "But I can try." She tried to place her hand on Zoë's side, but the loyal Huntress caught her wrist. Their eyes met, and in that moment they both knew.

She was dying. Even Apollo himself couldn't save her. This was the end.

"Have I…served thee well?" she croaked. Something twisted painfully in Artemis' gut. All her life, Zoë had been so serious, bordering on downright pessimistic, and now as she lay dying she was making jokes, looking back at happier times.

Or maybe not. There was something behind the humorous reference to a two-thousand-year-old conversation. As gently as she could, Zoë was reminding her of her promise.

"With great honor," Artemis replied gently. "The finest of my attendants." Her silvery-yellow eyes said the rest.

Zoë relaxed, looking almost peaceful now that she knew Artemis planned to keep her word. "Rest," she breathed. "At last."

"I can try to heal the poison, my brave one," said Artemis, but they all knew it would do no good.

Zoë turned to Thalia. "I am sorry we argued," she said sadly. "We could have been sisters." Of course, coming from Zoë, and taking into consideration the fact that her sisters wanted to kill her slowly and painfully, that could have meant any number of things, but it was clear the way she intended it.

Thalia made some response, but Artemis didn't hear her. She was remembering another age-old conversation. _We are your family._ And more recently, but still seeming to be eons ago: _Welcome, sister._ As she had said, Thalia was very much like a Hunter. Maybe her dying huntress was, very subtly, trying to tell her something.

She just caught Thalia's last words. "Heroes, men…everything."

Yes, she thought. Very much like a Hunter.

Zoë was now addressing Percy. He had taken out his sword, in pen form, and placed it gently in her hand. Artemis realized with a jolt that, somehow, he knew. This hero had gotten to know Zoë, had been able to understand her hatred of men and see past it. He had discovered her past, and she seemed to have made her peace with it. "You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson," she said weakly. "You are nothing like-" she seemed to steel herself-"like … Hercules. I am honored that you carry this sword." She spread her hand, and the pen disappeared. Artemis knew it had reappeared in the boy's pocket. She wondered if the hero knew how much Zoë had honored him tonight. There was more significance to her last sentence than he realized. She was giving the sword to him, the only one with that authority. It was truly his now, a gift from its maker. It meant that it would serve him better than it ever had before. It meant that she trusted him, and that was not something most heroes could say.

Artemis' hand accidentally brushed the bite on Zoë's side, and she shuddered. Percy flinched and called her name.

"Stars," whispered the dying huntress. "I can see the stars again, my lady."

Artemis' heart was breaking. "Yes, my brave one," she murmured, remembering Zoë's words from so long ago. "They are beautiful tonight."

"Stars," said Zoë faintly, her eyes on the night sky.

Beneath the silver blanket, where no one could see, Artemis felt Zoë's hand fall silently to the ground.

Thalia bowed her head, tears coursing soundlessly down her face. Annabeth, though she had barely known Zoë, still had to choke back a sob. She was trying to be strong, bless her, but she had been through so much in the past week.

Artemis let a shimmering tear fall on Zoë's dark hair. It seemed too cruel for her to have nothing, no sacred spot dedicated to her memory, not even a tree, but she had promised her…

Of course. Of _course._

Artemis cupped her hand over Zoë's mouth and spoke an incantation. A silvery wisp of smoke-Zoë's _animus_-floated into her hand, and the Huntress' body shimmered and disappeared. Then Artemis stood and said another spell. It would ensure that Zoë's spirit would enter the Underworld. She would respect her final wish, the only thing her loyal lieutenant had ever asked her to do for her. This would be a memorial only. She did, however, add a line that would create a bridge from the skies to the Underworld, working rather like an empathy link. Zoë's spirit would remain in Elysium, (Artemis had no doubt as to where she would end up), but her consciousness could flit in and out, to view the world from the heavens. Looking up at the sky, Artemis focused intently, visualizing the constellation as she imagined it. Then she blew into her hand and poured her own energy into the heavens.

Annabeth gasped, and Artemis knew that the spell had succeeded. She stemmed the flow of power and spoke again; not magic this time, but a final blessing.

"Let the world honor you, my Huntress," she said, her eyes pricking. "Live forever in the stars…"she was choked by tears, and finished the blessing in her mind. _Live forever in the stars you always loved._

"May your spirit find rest," whispered an almost inaudible voice. Artemis turned to see Thalia gazing at the sky with a strange expression on her face. When she noticed Artemis watching her, she flushed and hurried over to Annabeth. The others hadn't heard her.

But Artemis had.

_Is she the one?_ She wondered. _Is that what you were trying to tell me?_

Far above them, the new constellation seemed to twinkle happily, as if in assent.


End file.
